Tag Archives: Charmin

I have this love/hate relationship with toilet paper. Let’s face it–it’s a huge part of our everyday lives–we can’t live without it. “Where’s the toilet paper?” “What kind of toilet paper do you want?” “I have a coupon for toilet paper.” “Make sure you get toilet paper!” “There’s a sale on toilet paper.” “We’re out of toilet paper!”

You’ve made or heard all of those comments for sure.

Toilet paper has the ability to make one feel so many emotions too. For instance, when I go into a restroom and there is none, I feel stress.

When I find that someone has splurged on the good stuff AND it pulls off easy–I feel happy.

I can’t quite understand the situation with the one square halt, though. It’s always somewhere where you’re in a hurry or already somewhat uncomfortable using the restroom like at the airport or in a department store.

You know when you start to pull it and it just stops after one square and then rips off into your hand. And it’s not like its Charmin or anything–heaven forbid! And you have to keep pulling and pulling and it just keeps ripping and ripping and by the time you’re finished (by finished I mean exhausted and trying not to commit a felony) you have this frayed fluffy mess of white shreds in your hand that looks more like something your dog chewed up than something you plan to wipe your butt with.

I believe the sadistic inventors of Scott tissue and the TP stopper are in cahoots with each other in some factory somewhere just watching us idiots on their “toilet cam” trying to get a piece of their toilet paper, and they are just laughing and laughing.

And somebody please tell me why the perforation is every five inches? I’d like some choices. At no point do I ever want to tear off one square and one square only.

Toilet paper can lead to embarrassment too. I probably check my shoes ten times before leaving a public restroom to make sure I’m not the moron walking out the door with a trail of it stuck to my shoe–or worse yet–hanging from the top of my pants.

When I go through the checkout line and I have what seems to be like the biggest purchase in history to lug up on the counter I feel like my privacy has just been invaded. “Hey, quit looking at me like that.” “We all use it.” I only have a family of four. I can only imagine what the purchase looks like when the family is large.

Toilet paper makes you think and put your decision-making skills to the test. Do I need six rolls or should I splurge on 18? Should I get the double roll-good Lord that’s expensive if I get the 18 pack. Do I need aloe in my toilet paper? Boy, that would be nice. See–lots of thought goes into toilet paper.

Some people even get their toilet paper monogrammed. (Thank you, because I’ve been looking forward all day to wiping my ass with your initials. It makes me feel sooooo fancy.)